Chapter 64: His nice backside.

Hunter moved hesitantly, looking back at Zyra like she was missing a limb or had forgotten how to walk.

Zyra stared back at him, her beautiful green eyes blinking in pure confusion. Why is he looking at me like I just insulted his relatives?

Then, a spark lit up in her brain. The harsh, repetitive standard rules of survival this brooding man had been drilling into her head for the past few days finally connected.

"Oh!" Zyra clapped her hands together. "I should first sweep the place for any enemies and anything dangerous!"

Hunter stopped in his tracks, letting out a breath he seemed to have been holding for a century. He gave a stiff nod, his face as grim as a funeral director’s. "YES! You should have done that the moment our feet touched the valley floor. In these wild lands, a careless step turns a dumb person into a corpse. You must always hit the ground running. Only dumb people wait before assessing their environment."

She noted that he had used the word dumb twice, and he was looking at her directly when she said it. "Are you calling me dumb"

"No..no." He denied quickly. The next words slipped out accidentally, "But you are not the smartest in our group. And this includes the snake and squirrel."

She sneered. "I won’t even respond to that. But just to clarify, big guy, your favorite student is already ten steps ahead of you. I was going to do it...after you left." Zyra said with a dazzling smile. She didn’t bother moving a muscle. Instead, she leaned against a nearby tree and spoke to the system. "Beauty, do your thing. Sweep the place for signs of any beasts or humans that could be hiding here."

[Yes, dumb host.]

Her face lost some color quickly. "If only I could touch you," she muttered.

[Scanning area... 100 meters... 500 meters... Scan complete. No beasts or human signatures detected here or the close neighboring area. The beasts are safe, Host.]

"Clear!" Zyra shouted cheerfully, waving Hunter forward like a traffic police officer.

Hunter froze. He looked at the vast valley, then looked back at Zyra, who hadn’t moved an inch from the tree. His left eyebrow twitched violently. Clear? What does ’clear’ mean? She literally just stood there and yelled at the wind! Is she mocking me! Or .... wait she is a mental case. What should I have expected?

He let out a heavy, bone-deep sigh that carried the weight of a man dealing with a hopeless sick person. "A true hunter trusts only their own eyes and their spiritual sense. If I relied on whatever technique, you just used, my bones would be fertilizer by now. I will do it myself."

"Hey! Trust me it is safe," Zyra called out, pulling a fruit from the tree and taking a loud, juicy bite. "You’re wasting your precious energy! And time..."

Hunter ignored her completely. His jaw set in a stubborn line, he gripped his gun and began to pace around the perimeter. He checked behind every jagged rock. He poked his knife into thick patches of weeds. He even crouched down to peer into dark caves, half-expecting a hidden beast to jump out and prove him right.

There has to be something, Hunter thought, sweat trickling down his neck. There is always a beast lurking around. Maybe she used her soul maiden sense! If I don’t find a single hidden beast, I will never hear the end of this.

Ten minutes passed.

Then twenty.

Hunter was practically crawling on his knees, inspecting a patch of hole like it owed him energy stones.

"Still looking for ghosts?" Zyra shouted from her tree, kicking her legs back and forth. "Careful, Hunt! Those yellow things look extremely suspicious! They might be demon wolves disguised as sunflowers."

Hunter’s face flushed a deep crimson. His pride as a seasoned hunter was crumbling into dust, somehow this woman knew how to press his buttons and get reactions out of him like other people could never do. Finally, after checking the absolute last empty corner of the valley and finding nothing but a very confused family of mutated earthworms, he gave up.

He stood up, dusted off his clothes with unnecessary roughness, and walked stiffly toward the narrow mountain path ahead, refusing to meet her gaze. "Stay here, I will be back."

Zyra hopped down from the tree, quickly catching up to him and nudging his shoulder playfully. "See? What did I tell you, the great Magnus? You should have listened to me instead of wasting your time and sweating through your nice clothes. Next time, just trust the expert!"

Hunter kept his eyes locked straight ahead, his ears burning red. "Expert my ass," he muttered, picking up his pace.

Zyra’s eyes automatically dropped to his ass.

Well, she thought, a grin spreading across her face, he does have nice glutes. Under his tight pants, Hunter’s backside was a work of art. All that hunting and beast fighting had made his body incredibly firm and perfectly sculpted. He had the body of an immortal deity, as depicted in a few books she had stolen and read from the grand elder’s shelf.

"You know," Zyra chuckled, jogging to keep up, "you shouldn’t swear, Hunt. But I have to admit, your backside makes a very convincing argument."

[Hahaha] Beauty could not help but laugh.

Hunter didn’t get her meaning, but her playful tone made him walk even faster, his face burning hotter than a furnace.

Zyra stretched her hands wide, spinning around in a joyful circle on the soft grass. She looked toward a beautiful, elevated flat spot near the river. "Perfect. The house goes right there!"

She clapped her hands loudly, putting on her best boss face. She turned to Tyrant, Spice, and the squirrel. "Alright, team! Get to work! Clear that entire area of all the loose wood, roots, and rocks. Move, move, move!"

[Host you have to be joking.] Beauty puffed up like an anaconda waiting to strike. [Are you making precious beasts work?]

Tyrant let out a deeply offended growl, laying his massive head flat on his paws. Spice hissed softly, turning its back on her. The squirrel shook it’s head nonstop. None of them moved an inch.

Zyra crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. "Oh, really? Is that how we’re playing? Fine. No work, no dinner. And absolutely no treats for a week! I am not anyone’s slave. This here is a partnership, and we must all pitch in. Those who don’t work, don’t eat."

The moment the words treats left her mouth, Tyrant’s ears shot up. He let out a tragic, deeply dramatic sigh. Reluctantly, the tiger stood up, walked over to a fallen log, and began to drag it away with his teeth.

Spice followed behind him, grumpily slapping small pebbles out of the way with its tail. The squirrel joined, carrying the rocks like its life depended on it.

Food mattered more than anything pride.